Fate Defied: The Silent Tempest, Book 3 by E. J. Godwin Page A

had appeared instantly in her hand, defying all logic, as if some unbidden force had willed it into place.
    No one has ever done this before.
    She gripped the device, its dark surface glistening in the sun. “We’ll go back when I say.”
    “Hendra!”
    “I mean it!”
    The woman’s lips parted. Then they tightened in concentration.
    Hendra’s thoughts wandered. The wide, cloud-flecked sky spun in her eyes; her skin tingled, and she no longer felt the wind on her face.
    A bright web of light from her hand blotted it out in an instant.
    “NO!”
    The woman flew backwards and landed with a grunt in the tall grass. She lay recovering, then lifted herself on her elbows, shaking her head.
    Hendra’s device shone a brilliant green, tendrils of power twining about her hand, creeping up her arm. How easy it was!—as if her anger and desperation had erased the last barrier. She knew her consciousness was forever trapped inside this black prison, that her body was only a shell now. Yet the power surging through her flesh—a power shocking in its intensity—promised a freedom too great to resist.
    Her mother rose to her feet. “Hendra,” she whispered, her voice nearly lost in the breeze. “Please don’t fight me. Something’s happened to your governor. Your mind hasn’t been trained to control that kind of power yet.”
    For one brief moment she hesitated, her mother’s fear dampening her confidence. But the warm rays of the sun, the wind caressing the gossamer-fine hair of her skin, sent an ache into her heart too powerful to ignore. For the first time in her life, she knew what it meant to be truly human.
    I can’t go back. I can never go back.
    She closed her hand around her possession with desperate strength. The prospect of returning to that empty life terrified her. And the Lor’yentré transformed that terror into reality.
    Her mother—the same woman who had nursed her, scolded her, soothed every hurt of her body and ache of her heart—released a scream so utterly primal and inhuman that Hendra scrambled backwards in horror. Then that perfect vision of life and love burst apart before her staring eyes.
    Blood and bones and entrails ripped from each other as if enemies of the body they once shared. A thick rain fell, flattening the grass. The flowers that had once danced as if for joy now sank lifeless beneath its weight.
    Hendra could not scream. She had no breath for it. Her arms and clothes were spattered, and her eyes and nostrils burned with the vile stench of her betrayal.
    She dropped to her knees, the Lor’yentré slipping from her bloodied hand.
    Telai!
    Shrieks filled the air, a raw, collective outcry of shattered youth. Hendra sat silent, the knowledge of what she had done locking her in place like a stone effigy. No sight or smell existed beyond the sickening cloak she wore.
    Telai! Answer me!
    She heard dogs barking. Dogs? Where did they come from?
    Someone was shaking her. “Leave me alone!” she shrieked.
    A strong slap wrenched her head aside. The sunlight and the blood and the stench vanished.
    She was lying on her back. Tenlar crouched near, one arm tight around Slink’s chest as the dog struggled toward her. The rest of the dogs stood at the edge of the firelight, straining at the end of their leashes, their frenzied outbursts fading to growls and a few gruff barks.
    “Tenlar?”
    “Thank Orand. I’m here, Telai! Are you all right?”
    Telai tried to sit up, then lay back, breathing heavily. She lifted a hand, then froze: red fingernail marks ran across her palm.
    “What happened?”
    “You were screaming. And I mean screaming— like you were being stabbed to death or something. Scared the living Hendra out of me.”
    She covered her face, shuddering. “ Don’t say that name! ”
    “Telai—what’s wrong?” Tenlar set his hand on her arm. “You’re shaking like a leaf!”
    His touch took some of the horror away. Her breathing slowed, and she flexed her arms and shoulders to